Behind Blue Eyes

I was born on January 21, 2057. I was told that the doctor almost dropped me at first glance. It wasn't because I didn’t cry as most babies do at birth. It was because I look albino, with light skin and white hair, except my eyes are pale blue. I never met my dad.

As one would expect, my looks generated stares and whispers throughout my youth. But not everything was bad. I met a boy, Randy Peters, two doors down, who became my best friend. He was everything I was not. He had dark skin and deep brown eyes. He was out-going, funny, and quick with a smile.

One night, I had a dream in which Randy invited me for a sleepover. The next day, he did. Better still, his parents didn’t treat me like a freak. We had great times playing virtual games and making up creepy stories.

Two days later, I had a dream in which Randy fell out of a tree and hurt his right arm. Later, he sent me an audio message through our neural link. A doctor was about to do laser repair on his right arm. He fell trying to rescue a young girl’s cat from a tree.

When I turned 12, I started having nightmares about being eaten by a strange, quadrupedal creature the size of a large dog, with no head. It had black, leathery skin and glowing blue eyes on its bulbous body. Its claws tore off pieces of my flesh and delivered it to a fifth appendage at the center of its body, which functioned as a mouth.

My fear was that these nightmares would become real. Everyone laughed at the idea except Randy. He encouraged me to write everything down. For two years, he patiently read and discussed my journal with me. Then, he suggested I write it as a story.

My nightmares gave me vivid images of these creatures living in ships which they had sunk to the bottom of the ocean. It was unclear to me how they could avoid the military and withstand the pressure of the ocean, so I gave them superior technology and a preference for cold climates. That way, they could live in the cold depths of the ocean. They surfaced at night in small shuttles to “harvest” humans.

Much to my surprise, my first story was published and became a hit within months. A movie deal followed. The first movie opened in October of 2074.

Then, it happened. On December 4th, an unmanned scientific submarine caught an image of a dome ship at the bottom of the ocean like the ones in my dreams. Then, people began to find human remains stripped to the bone, just as in my stories. Widespread panic ensued. Suddenly, I was a person of interest. I was picked up from school and shoved into a black car - cliché. Now, here I sit, writing this in my journal while waiting to be questioned. If I…

*

The door opens. A scowling man beckons, saying, “Come with me, young lady.” The corridor makes the building look like a bunker – walls painted gray and buzzing antique fluorescent lights.

I ask, “What do you want with me?”

With no hint of expression, he barks, “We’ll be asking the questions.”

We go down a long hallway and turn right. We enter an elevator, and ascend. I can’t tell how many levels. When the door opens, I am surprised to enter what looks like a medical facility. I back towards the elevator. “What are you going to do to me? I don’t want to be tortured or...drugged.”

Men on either side of the elevator grab my arm and pull me toward a table. I squirm and flail, which only serves to make them squeeze my arms more tightly. “Ouch! Let me go!” I shriek. I’m shoved into a chair.

A man in a suit enters from a door on the left. His smile makes me more nervous than the last guy’s stoic expression. His saccharine voice matches his sickeningly sweet grin. “Miss Cielo, you have nothing to fear. I simply want some answers.”

“I want my mother present. I’m a minor.” It shouldn’t matter that I’ll be 18 in 51 days.

He shakes his head. “Your mother is visiting with someone else at the moment. We have your friend, Randy, too.”

I stand up, raising my voice. “They don’t know anything. Let them go!”

The two guards approach. Agent Smiley says, “We will, provided you tell us how you knew about the aliens.”

I sit down, exhaling in exasperation. I whisper, “I dreamed about them.” Louder, I admit, “All of it came from dreams.”

He laughs. The smarmy jerk has the nerve to laugh at me. When he composes himself, he quips, “You expect me to believe that you dreamt something in such detail and then it happened?” For the first time, he isn’t smiling. “Were you abducted? Or are you perhaps from another enemy planet?”

I can’t keep my jaw from dropping, stunned. I’d like to slap the cheeky smirk that returns to his face, but I don’t want to be a lab rat for someone’s scientific experiments, so instead I say, “Check my school records. I’ve lived here my whole life. You can use a polygraph if you like, but what I’m telling you is the truth.”

“Okay, Cielo. Say you are telling the truth.” He slams his hand on the table in front of me. “What happens next?”

I jump in my seat and look down at his hand. “I haven’t dreamt anything more. It’s always like I wrote in my stories.”

Agent Smiley changes the subject. “You must be thirsty. We had you waiting without water. Would you like a bottle? He holds out a generic 8-ounce bottle. I am relieved to see that it doesn’t seem tampered with. The seal snaps satisfactorily. I take a small sip. Just water. I finish it off and set the bottle on the table.

Agent Smiley says, “We will be using that polygraph after you’ve had a nice nap. Sweet dreams!”

I should have known that whatever government agency had me in their clutches would have a way to seal tainted water. I yell, “You bastard! This is illegal.” It doesn’t take long for me to feel groggy. I slur, “I’ll have you fired.”

Then, darkness.

My dream was different this time. Someone is talking directly to me. I turn and gasp in my mind. There is a male adult with the same white hair and blue eyes as mine. He says, “Cielo, we don’t have much time. I am one of your fathers, Imcolio." Even in my sleep, I feel myself flinch, but I can’t speak. My father continues, “I’m sorry I couldn’t stay with you. These scavengers, the Clondids, destroyed our peaceful home world. We’ve been trying to find a safe planet since. Earth is too cold. It’s what Clondids prefer. Only your equatorial regions will be spared when the full invasion begins. We chose to produce progeny like you to serve as warnings. As the plan was unsuccessful, we have come to take our brethren and their families with us. We can’t promise it will be easy, but we have found a planet which should be safe.” He pauses briefly. “I hear your mind screaming. You wish to also save your friend and his family. We will attempt to do so.” He outlines what I am to do by showing me a detailed dream of what would happen. He concludes by speaking once more, his image reappearing. “I am proud of who you have become. I only wish others had believed you when you shared your stories.”

I awaken immediately, I believe with the assistance of my father. As my dream indicated, no one is in the immediate vicinity, but a video camera is aimed at me. I pull the plug, grab a scalpel from a nearby tray, and hide beside the door. As Agent Smiley enters, I don’t hesitate. I stab his neck and back away. He pulls out the scalpel, which causes blood to gush from the wound. He falls to his knees, then onto his stomach. I don’t like that I have committed murder, but this is an extreme, life-or-death situation. I take Smiley’s cell phone and gun and follow the path laid out by the dream, which leads to a stairwell. I go down a flight and turn left. Randy is being held on the right. His security guard has stepped away for unknown reasons, so I merely open the door and call him. His eyes nearly pop out of his head as he rushes to me. “How? What?”

“No time to explain,” I whisper. “Follow me and stay quiet.” He nods and we go back to the stairwell. We scurry down four flights. My mother is being held in a room to the left. There’s a guard by the door and someone inside with her. When the guard looks down at his phone, I throw Smiley’s cell past him. It skids across the floor and bumps into the far wall. As he walks toward it, we quickly slip into the room. I hold the gun on the interviewer and say, “I’ll be taking my mother.” I reach in the front pocket of his briefcase and find ty-wraps. I hand one to Randy and say, “Secure him.” Randy does as requested. We bring another and secure the guard, taking phones and locking them inside.

After I hug Mom, we make our way out the back door of the building and I run to hail a cab I knew would be there. Mom and Randy press for answers on the way to his house, but I shake my head emphatically and say, “Later.”

When we enter Randy’s house, the Peters are in the kitchen. I say, “Everyone in the living room. I’ve got vital information.” The Peters look at each other and shrug. I hastily tell them as much as I can. When I explain that we’ll be leaving the planet, they look like they’re in shock. I say, “Go get one bag of absolute essentials. We’ll meet at your van in 20 minutes.” No one moves until I yell, “Now!”

Mom and I go home and each grab a backpack. In my room, I add reading and writing materials and a few items of clothing. In the kitchen, I grab a box of granola bars and a gallon of water. I run out back and grab all the seeds I can find.

Mom doesn’t answer when I call. I find her sitting on her bed. She whispers, “Your dad was right about you not being his child.”

I grab the backpack and start shoving clothing in it. I yank her arm and explain as we walk, “My other dad said that only 20% of my DNA is his. They chose people who were already pregnant, so I have three parents.

Mom squeezes my hand. The Peters are waiting in the van. We stop at a gas station to fill up, use the facilities, and buy additional food and water. I’m paying when I hear Mom scream. I leave everything and rush outside. She is being torn apart by a Clondid. My dream didn’t show this. I pull out Agent Smiley’s gun and empty it into the beast. It collapses on top of my mom, but it’s clear that she’s dead. The Peters come running. We hear more screams. No one hesitates this time. I cry in Randy’s arms on the way to the stadium where my father is now landing his ship.

With sorrow and trepidation, we say farewell to Earth.